There For You
by ChocolateKiss1995
Summary: Post-5x12 - Toby brings Spencer home from prison and must help her come to terms with lingering guilt over his time behind bars.


**AN: So this isn't a prompt. It's just an idea that has been stuck in my head since the FatalFinale. **

**Read and review please.**

**And PS please stop saying I'm stealing stories. My account on tumblr is SpobyFanfictionArchive.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but this story.**

Tapping his foot, transparently impatient, Toby Cavanaugh awaited the release of his girlfriend, Spencer Hastings. The officers who'd taken Veronica and Peter Hastings inside the conference room were taking an especially long time. Longer than usual, when it comes to releasing criminals on bail.

He couldn't help but wonder if it was intentional. Since her arrest, three and a half weeks ago, the entire town of Rosewood had jumped on the bandwagon that Spencer had killed Bethany Young. Rumors swiveled around about her plummeting her with a rock from behind, others said that they heard she rolled her into the grave using her feet and that's how fingerprints didn't get on the body, others said Spencer even knew Bethany beforehand, and that this was just a confrontation gone wrong.

Needless to say, rumors about murder weren't a new thing to Toby. But this time the rumors were not about him and for some reason, it only served to make him more angry.

Spencer was innocent. He had no doubts in his mind. She was innocent and she had no way of defending herself. Toby never thought he'd see the day where he found a silver lining in his time as a murder suspect, but here it is. He knew all along he was being falsely accused. He knew where he went that night from point A to point B and so forth. Spencer didn't. She didn't know if she remained in her backyard all night or traveled to Philadelphia and back. Nothing she said could she say with absolute clarity.

Sometimes, the only thing worse than having people believe you're a monster, is believing they're right.

But Toby knew she wasn't a monster. So did Emily, Aria and Hanna. They knew exactly who Spencer was, deep to her core, and knew this was something she could never do. Adderall or not, she was a wonderful human being who passionately loved with her whole heart and soul.

Her friends had wanted to be here but The Hastings had warned them that crowding the police station wouldn't do anyone any good and Spencer hadn't seen any one of them in almost a month. They didn't want to risk her getting emotional in the middle of the PD over seeing everyone at once or to cause a big commotion.

Spencer had refused visitors from the night she was booked. Her parents saw her once to discuss the situation at hand but that was it. Toby tortured himself, unable to make it into a police station in a wheelchair and settled for calling the station, asking them to please put her on the phone, to no avail. They would tell him absolutely not every time and hang up but he continued calling, night and day until his leg was healed enough to make it into the Rosewood PD sans wheelchair. Unfortunately though, Spencer extended her stipulation to him and when he asked to see her, a guard came back saying she didn't want to see anyone right now.

Toby knew she was embarrassed-humiliated actually. Being dragged and manhandled out of The Brew with dozens of witnesses watching her, like a zoo animal. Having her rights taken from her, her freedom, the people she loved. He knew she was scared when right now, all she wanted to be was brave. He knew the feeling, the anger and powerlessness that came from being locked up behind bars when every cell in your body struggles to scream out loud, "_I'm_ _innocent_!"

He understood her not wanting him to see her, stripped to a ponytail and orange jumpsuit, hands in cuffs and knots in your back, skin cold as ice, eyes wet from constant out pour of tears. He knew her reasons but it didn't stop the hurt and aggravation from the separation. He needed her like air, like sleep, like light. She was his everything and the fact that he couldn't help absolutely tore him apart.

The night she was processed and booked, her parents found themselves stuck, unable to get her out. They fought for a hearing, hoping to get her out within the week. But the court decided to be difficult and delayed her arraignment for weeks, even for the most prominent lawyers in town.

Toby cringed every time he thought about Spencer, his sweet, sassy, loving girlfriend, sitting in a jail cell all night long, unable to sleep or preform any of her other daily routine. The thoughts made his stomach turn and want to heave. Every day he thought of something worse. The idea of her sharing a cell with a large, rough roommate, the thought of her in total isolation, the idea of her realizing she had to shower and use the bathroom in front of everyone when she can't even pee in a public restroom, the thought of her lying on a hard mattress making her already cramped neck and back that much worse, the idea of her crying herself to sleep or being unable to eat the given food. All these thoughts had him racing towards his truck, throwing his keys in the ignition, ready to bust her out before realizing how impossible that was.

Luckily, Veronica and Peter had plenty of time to man a defense and the judge agreed to bail fairly easily. Toby didn't sleep all night, literally staying up to stare at his phone, knowing that what the judge decided would change everything. He couldn't handle having her locked up for much longer. He wanted her out and inside his arms, as soon as possible.

Veronica's voice broke him out of his thoughts. "Spencer, I want a name!"

"Mom, I told you to just let it go!" Spencer exclaimed her voice shaky and hoarse, like it was on the verge of tears. Her back was to him but it brought him greater joy than he had felt in almost a month.

"I'm not going to let it go!" Veronica yelled, her eyes wide.

Spencer tried to shake her mom off, turning her back towards her only to come face to face with her boyfriend. "Toby," She gasped, her eyes filling up with tears.

He felt his do the same. He hadn't been able to see her in weeks and just looking at her beautiful face was like finally pulling his head above water.

But he'd have to be blind to not notice her left eye was swollen shut, purple and bloodshot. The skin underneath and around her injured eye was black and blue, trailing to the side of her head and around her ear.

"Spencer," He whispered, his voice savoring her name like melted chocolate. He meant to ask about her black eye but instead, as if on instinct, he opened his arms and she flew into them, pushing her face into the space when his neck and shoulder meet, wrapping both her arms and legs around him, squeezing so tight it cut off his air supply, not that he cared. "Oh baby, what happened?" He whispered into her hair, burying his face, lifting her off the ground gently. "Who hurt you?" He breathed, rubbing her back with one hand, holding her up with the other arm. "Shhh," He whispered to her when he felt her head collapse deeper into his neck, hot tears landing on his skin. "I'm here now and I have you. I won't let anyone hurt you now, I promise." He swore, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

By this time, Peter and Veronica had joined them, in their own heated discussion. "I want to know," Veronica was saying, her voice sharp as iron.

"It's not going to make a difference, Veronica," Peter reasoned, his voice completely worn and on edge. "They're already in jail."

"No one touches her and gets away-"

"I know!" Peter exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "But we need to focus on what really matters and that's getting these charges off her."

Toby wrapped his arms tighter around his girlfriend, still holding her in front of him. Apparently, they finally caught her parents' attention because both of them looked in their direction at the same time and quickly rushed over. "Is she crying?" Veronica pressed, laying a hand on Spencer's back.

Toby didn't have to answer verbally to let her know. "She can't cry," Peter said, looking out the window of the Police Department. ''There are dozens of cameras outside, waiting for her."

"For God's sake, Peter! She's a teenage girl!" Veronica exclaimed venomously, gently prying Spencer's arms from Toby's neck. "So what, she's going to cry!" Veronica's actions and tone complete polar opposites, as she gently prodded her daughter out of her boyfriend's arms and tried to steady her onto the ground. The effort did little good, as once Spencer was standing on her own two feet, she re-wrapped her arms around Toby, squeezing him like a lifeline thrown to her in the middle of the ocean.

"If those reporters see that, it'll be on the cover of the newspapers everywhere! They'll twist it somehow-"

"How about we just get her home first," Toby cut in, his arms around Spencer, in her hair and rubbing her back, trying to soothe her. "We can worry about reporters later."

Peter opened his mouth to disagree but Spencer's voice cut him off. "Please, Dad," She begged, pulling slightly away from Toby and towards her dad. "Please," She cried, tearfully. "I just want to go home."

Peter's expression changed at her words. Toby didn't think he'd ever seen Spencer's father look so heartbroken or upset. "Of course, champ," He said, visibly swallowing a lump.

"Come on, sweetie," Veronica placed a hand on Spencer's upper back. "We can cut around back. There won't be as many reporters there."

Toby followed half a step behind Spencer, his hand placed on her back, ready to wrap her up in his arms at any given second. Stepping out from the police station, to the outside, was like stepping from pure darkness into a white light.

Cameras and reporters and microphones and people shoving others out their way and the sound of voices, muffled but so vibrant against one another, shook the ground, making it seem like the Earth was spinning in a different direction and, for a split second, Toby felt himself overcome with vertigo.

"Spencer Hastings!" One reporter called. "Is it true that you hit Bethany three times with the shovel, just to make sure she was dead?"

"Did you ever think of what would happen when they found the body?" Another reporter shouted over the crowd.

"How deep did you bury Bethany?"

"Did you bury Bethany Young yourself?"

"Did this incident bring you and Alison Dilaurentis closer?"

"Did you help Alison Dilaurentis run away?"

All the reporters, men and women, different colors, different kinds of clothes, different everything, seemed to have one common goal and that was to shove a sticky microphone in Spencer's face.

Spencer's eyes were wide, her emotions more out of control than ever before. She couldn't remember a time like this, when she struggled for words, when no matter what she said she knew she'd be found in the wrong.

Toby remembers this feeling all too well.

Peter tugged on Spencer's arm, keeping her close. "No comment," He shouted to three new reporters shoving microphones and cameras and recorders in Spencer's face.

Toby tried to stick close to her, molding himself to her back like peanut butter, not because he was afraid she would get hurt physically by these reporters. Her parents could ensure her protection there. But because he knew his Spencer and he saw her lower lip begin to quiver and knew she was unraveling.

Who was he kidding? She was unraveling from the moment she stepped inside this precinct three weeks ago, from the second she was processed and booked for a crime she didn't commit.

They were about halfway to the Hastings' car when a new reporter, younger, dark haired threw their microphone in Spencer's face. "How did you get that black eye? Was it from a close friend of Bethany's?"

This question seemed to sit differently with Spencer than the others. Something snapped and before Veronica or Peter could swipe the microphone out of her face, she began yelling "No!" continuously, shaking her head back and forth. "I didn't do anything!" She yelled as Veronica tightened her grip on Spencer's arm and Peter began pulling her faster to the car.

"_Spencer Jill Hastings_!" Veronica whispered in her ear, her voice deadly but even, so quiet, that if Toby wasn't grappling onto Spencer's back, he'd never heard it. "Knock it off now. Shut your mouth. Don't ever speak to a reporter again. Ever."

Her mother's scolding only seemed to make things worse. Toby's stomach lurched when he noticed a tear falling down Spencer's cheek as she sucked on her bottom lip, as if to keep in a sob.

In that moment, Toby wanted nothing more than to take her home to his loft, lay her in bed, wrap her up in his arms and never let her go, never let her around these people who referred to her as family but in reality, only made everything for her so much worse.

But it wasn't until another voice rose above the crowd that things got ugly. A woman, early twenties, maybe only two years older than Toby had joined the crowd, though it became clear quickly she was not another reporter.

"Rot in hell, bitch," She spit, aiming directly for Spencer. "I hope you get what you deserve."

For a second, both the elder Hastings and all the reporters froze mid step. But Toby didn't miss a beat. He saw it, the very instant it happened. Spencer squeezed her eyes shut as if to fight back her tears, painfully wrinkling her bruised eyelid. Her sobs came out like coughs and Toby never would have heard them if he'd been three inches further back.

Toby pried Spencer's arms out of her parents' grasp, even so much as shoving Veronica's hand away when she tried to stop him. He lifted her up into his arms and squeezed her tight into his embrace, carrying her in front of him effortlessly, whisking her away from the cameras and reporters as fast as he could, not caring that this would likely be on the night time news.

He knew maybe this would make a bigger commotion with the press and the media, but in all honesty he didn't give it much thought. He only found himself worrying about Spencer's emotions and what she needed.

He'd rather swallow a battery than see her cry.

Toby shoved through the crowd, not caring if he knocked people down on his way. He wrapped Spencer in the protection of his arms and after that, he used every force of his body to shove through the sea of people, focused on getting to the car where Spencer would feel safe.

By the time they got there, Peter was climbing into the driver's seat, apparently taken Toby's lead and shoved himself more forcefully through the crowd as well.

"Shhh," Toby whispered as he set Spencer in the seat next to him, her legs falling into his lap. He pushed back her hair that had created a dark veil over her face. "It's over now, sweetheart. You're safe."

Spencer didn't have words to speak; she just looked at her boyfriend, her caring, sweet, protective boyfriend and stared until the veil of tears that clouded her vision muddled his face into a colorful blur.

X.

The drive from the precinct to the Hastings' House was long and silent. A cloud of awkwardness sealed over the four people seated in the vehicle as soon as Veronica got in the passenger's side. Toby knew she was angry that he'd called attention to him and Spencer and he knew she was a lawyer who was experienced in these things. She knew what way the media could twist this. She knew how to play your cards exactly right, not to create anymore drama for yourself than you already have.

But she's a mother too and she's supposed to love Spencer unconditionally. Didn't she have the urge to defend her to those people? Didn't Peter?

Toby never really saw what Spencer meant, not up close at least, when she said her parents were sticklers and ice cold and professionals even in their own household.

Or maybe Veronica's problem was Toby Cavanaugh, who she had always seen as less than, had defied her orders.

Either way, he really didn't care. Spencer wasn't out for her mother's approval and though it'd be nice, he didn't lose sleep over what her family thought of him. He hadn't for a while. Spencer is what mattered.

Toby gently carried Spencer into the house, her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck tightly, cheek resting on his shoulder sleepily. She was worn out and exhausted, like she hadn't slept the entire time she sat inside the prison cell.

She probably hadn't. It wouldn't surprise him if she refused to sleep on the harsh bunk, unsure of who last slept there and if they'd sanitized it for her. (He had the answer: They didn't.)

Toby recalled a time in the last few weeks that he worried what she'd do when she had to use the bathroom.

When he first moved into the loft, he remembered Spencer not drinking anything or indulging in any of his food choices while over visiting. He remembered thinking it was weird until one day he asked her why she refused to eat and drink at his house, worried he wasn't buying the food she wanted. She laughed nervously and shook her head, brushing him off with a quick kiss, hoping to shut him up. He let it go until a few days later when he was with the girls minus Aria-because his and Aria's paths strangely don't seem to ever cross-and Spencer went into the bathroom after chugging three espressos. She came out four minutes later, bouncing from foot to foot, begging one of them to take her home so she could use the bathroom. When they pressed why she couldn't use the one at The Brew, she finally exclaimed they were out of toilet seat covers. Hanna got a kick out of that the whole ride to the Hastings', nudging Spencer, asking if this is why she bought all three of them toilet seat covers. Toby cornered her when they were alone in his loft later, asking if that was why she wouldn't eat or drink anything. Did she not want to use his bathroom? After a lot of laughing and teasing, she finally admitted to being grossed out by toilet seats that a lot of people sat on and that she wasn't sure who was the last person and how often it was cleaned.

Of course, the Hastings' had someone come clean their toilets every three days.

After that, he promised he'd clean his toilet for her as often as she wanted but he didn't want her to starve herself at his apartment or to give herself a bladder infection, so she had to promise she'd use the bathroom at his place. She kept it and after a couple days had, surprisingly, no reservations about his bathroom at all. And then a few weeks later, Hanna convinced them to double date with her and Caleb and drive to an outdoor movie in Bucks County. The movie ran late and traffic was bad getting out, so when Hanna started complaining about drinking three diet sodas, Toby pulled over at a nearby gas station. Spencer followed her blonde friend to the restroom, only to wait until Caleb went in search of snacks inside and reappear at his window. "I have a problem," She'd said in a hushed tone, like she was telling a secret. Toby had given her a strange look until she explained. In the end, she actually made him sneak her into the boy's bathroom, use the toilet first and then guard the door as she used it afterwards.

Toby couldn't see the girl who refused to use a public toilet using a prison bathroom. Or sleep on one of the bunks or shower with dozens of other people or eat the given food or anything. He was actually really interested in what her response would be but at the moment, she was too tired to answer these inquiries.

He knew this just by the heaviness in his arms as he held her. Spencer was light as a feather but she was also submitting her full weight onto him, creating a strange tingly sensation in his arms and chest.

Carrying her upstairs, followed Veronica, Toby gently set her on her bed, smoothing her hair out of her face. "Do you need anything?" Veronica asked, her tone no longer a lawyer's but now a mother's.

"No," Spencer shook her head, looking around her room, marveling at everything in sight.

"Alright," Veronica straightened the bedspread neatly before kissing Spencer's forehead. "Call me if you change your mind."

As soon as her mother closed the door, Toby asked, "Weird to be back?" He had been concerned the entire way to her house that she'd be overwhelmed by seeing everything again, seeing how nothing had changed and yet it felt like it should have, felt like eternity since she last saw her own room.

But when she smiled, Toby's concern melted away. ''Very."

"I remember sitting in my room for three and a half hours after my parents brought me home from jail. I just kept staring at the wall, wondering what was different." His story was meant to make her feel less alone but instead it seemed to make her feel more isolated.

She brought her legs to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, curling into a ball. "Spencer," Toby called softly, approaching her bed. "What's wrong?" He asked, climbing behind her and pressing his chest into her back so that she was basically laying on top of him.

She shrugged, shaking her head. "Nothing."

"You can tell me," He urged.

But Spencer shook her head, stubborn. "I just don't feel great."

Instantly, Toby's hands slid up her arms and onto her shoulders, beginning to massage. "Why don't I run you a bath? I can make the water extra hot, just like you like it."

Spencer stretched her head back to press a kiss to his jawline. "You're so good to me."

A look of awe and adornment crossed his face. "You deserve it, with all you go through for me _and_ for others."

Toby didn't miss the way she shook her head, sadly.

He slid out from behind her on the bed, dropping a kiss to her shoulder blade, making his way to the Hastings' exotic bathroom, turning the facets to the perfect, steamy temperature Spencer always requested. He took extra time to lay out fluffy warm towels for her and to turn on the fan so the room wouldn't overheat.

He wanted her to know he was here for her, even when all else seemed to be falling apart. Even when everything else seemed to be on a one track highway to hell, he wanted Spencer to know how much he cared about her, how much thought he put in every action towards her. He wanted her to feel like there was always someone who loved her, even when she questioned if she loved herself.

He, more than anything, wanted her to feeling nothing like he did when he was on the other end of the spectrum.

Walking back into her bedroom, Toby found her in the same exact position he left her in. When he put his hand under her chin, she smiled softly but it didn't reach her eyes. "Spencer," Toby whispered, kneeling down. "You know you can tell me anything right? You know. . . . You know that I love you, right? No matter what happens or what you did or didn't do. . . I love you so much."

She nodded quickly but adverted her eyes, trying to hide her tears. Choosing not to question her further and embarrass her, Toby wordlessly carried her to the bathroom and helped her strip out of her clothes-the ones she wore the afternoon they arrested her-and climb into the tub.

"You sure you don't need anything else?" He asked, sitting on the lip of the tub.

"I'm sure," She smiled passively, obviously attempting to pacify him.

He sighed but let it go. Obviously, something was bugging her. Something she wasn't sharing with him. ''Alright," He whispered, kneeling down to kiss her forehead gently before exiting and heading back to her bedroom.

It only took him until he was halfway down the hall to conjure up a million, horrendous reasons she'd be lying or upset right now. Something happened in jail. Someone hurt her. Someone did something to her.

The idea of someone touching his Spencer, the light of his life, his angel, made his blood boil. This was why he joined the -A team. To protect her, to take care of her, to make sure she didn't get hurt.

But he never thought, not even when she came to him all that time ago with a French book and a study schedule, prepared to tutor him for answers and help, did he ever consider it a real possibility that she'd wind up in a jail cell.

Spencer was in jail even longer than he was.

He suddenly became aware that, all the effort he put into protecting her, becoming a cop, going undercover, working to destroy -A, he never advised her on what to do while locked in a cell. He never told her to keep her head low and avoid eye contact. He never told her how to take care of herself in a prison.

He never thought he'd have to. His sweet girlfriend never seemed like a candidate for an inmate. She was raised wealthy and proper and aristocratic, not at all the typical upbringing for a prisoner.

He flopped back on her bed, rubbing his eyes, hoping if he rubbed hard enough, he could rub the bad thoughts away.

He knew one thing though.

If anyone hurt his Spencer, he'd kill them.

Maybe then they'd be cellmates.

X.

"Baby?" Toby called, as he heard footsteps pad down the hall. Scrambling around, he realized he was supposed to bring her fresh clothes. "Spence, I'm sorry," He reached for the pile of cotton, sitting on the red chair, as she entered, clad in solely a towel. "I was just about-"

If she heard his rambling, she paid no mind. Instead she stalked forward, confidently, wordlessly, more Spencer-like than anything he'd seen since she'd been released. He just stood in front of the red ottoman, dumbstruck, until she pushed the clothes out of his hands and to the floor and shoved him down.

Instantly, she dropped the towel and straddled his hips, shoving his shirt over his head, tracing his six pack and kissing his neck, then moving her mouth up his jawline, tracing each atom with her lips, until she reached his mouth. She forcefully shoved her tongue into his unsuspecting, still shocked, mouth, twisting and mingling, almost as if something had possessed her.

He didn't have to guess what she wanted.

He didn't have the willpower to refuse her either.

She was his girl, his angel, his sweetheart, his nerd, his firecracker, his baby, his commander, his alpha female.

He was at her mercy.

X.

Afterwards, they lay there, their limbs entangled, for hours. Her parents sensed they wanted privacy and thank God-for once-didn't barge in. But they could only lay in silence for so long. As nice as it felt to hold each, feel each other's arms and legs and hands and feet and stomachs and heads all entwined, they had to return to reality eventually and face the demons who stalked their every waking move.

It was, much to Toby's surprise, Spencer that broke the silence. "I'm sorry," She whispered.

He smirked, still not off his high yet. "Trust me, Spence. There's nothing to apologize for."

Spencer nudged his chest with her's, rolling her eyes. "I meant for-" She cut herself off, sitting up gracelessly.

Abruptly, Toby sat up. This was what must have been bugging her before. "Spencer, what's wrong?" He asked when she was silent for almost a minute.

"It's nothing," She stated, her voice breaking, her head hung.

"It's not _nothing_," He pushed gently, placing a hand on her bare back, rubbing soothing circles, hoping to help her. "It's not _nothing_ that upsets you."

Spencer shrugged before lifting her head finally. "It's just," She gulped, tears running down her face, fast. "It's just that I feel so bad!" She sobbed, diving into his chest, burying her face.

Confused, Toby wrapped his arms around Spencer, tightly, hoping to comfort her even when he couldn't understand why she was upset.

"Spencer, talk to me," Toby urged, running his hands up and down her back and arms and cradling her head, pressing kisses into her hair. "Talk to me, baby, please. I don't understand. Why do you feel bad? Is this about the pills again? I told you-"

"It's not about the pills," She cried out, her tears coming faster than Toby thought possible.

"Okay," He placated. "Okay, sweetheart. Just know whatever it is, you have nothing to feel bad about."

She didn't speak again, as Toby continued to rock her back and forth, sitting in her bed. After a solid twenty minutes without her speaking, Toby pulled a sheet from her bed and wrapped it more fully around her body before scooping her up in his arms and carrying her to the rocking chair that he built with his own hands.

"Talk to me, Spence. I can't help you if you refuse to let me in," He begged, moving the chair in a back and forth motion, cradling her on his lap.

"I just," She hesitated. "I've always felt bad about. . . . . . . .The Jenna Thing. . . . . I always felt like I was a terrible person after that, that maybe I was like those criminals you see on America's Most Wanted. . . . I felt bad that Jenna went blind and . . . I felt bad for everything that happened to you because of it. . . I guess then, when you were the prime suspect of Ali's murder that . . . . I _liked_ the idea," She took a deep breath to regain her train of thought. Toby continued to rock them back and forth in the wooden chair, basking in the feeling of her head against his shoulder, her hair in its natural curliness, her eyelashes against his skin, how she looked so compact wrapped in a bed sheet, basking in the feeling of her, as he had no clue what Spencer was talking about. When she started speaking again, the words spilled out like she was trying to abort them from her mind and tongue, "I liked the idea of you being a killer, that maybe we didn't do such a bad thing, that you were a terrible person but once I realized the truth-albeit later than I should have-this overwhelming sense of guilt, like blanketed over me and it's never really left. . ."

Toby's hand ran through her hair, "Spence, I don't understand. . ." He said after a minute.

"I-I-I always felt bad-really bad-that I treated you like I did. That I called you things and said you deserved to be a social pariah and that we got you sent to reform school and juvie and ruined your reputation in the first place . . . and then I insisted to anyone who'd listen that you deserved to be accused of murder, that you had to be the killer, especially-" She cut herself off, squeezing her eyes shut.

That was enough for Toby. He tightened his arms around her slim figure, pulling her closer so that her head rested against his throat. "Shhh, honey, its okay," He whispered into her hair. "You didn't know," He chanted, rocking her more steadily. "You didn't know."

"But I did!" She cried out. "A part of me always knew! I always knew it was weird that I had this huge blank space in my mind. I knew something wasn't right, that I was missing chunks of that night. Okay, I knew it-it didn't make sense. I was so hyped up on pills and alcohol and-now I know-sleeping meds too. I was-I was," She gasped.

"Shh," He rubbed her back again, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face into him.

"I mean, why did I always have to be so sure that it was you, then Ian, then Garrett? It just had to be someone other than me!" She let out huge, ugly sobs, her mouth falling open against his warm skin.

"Spencer," Toby started, petting her hair.

"No, Toby!" She yelled over her sobs, her rage and her sorrow battling for dominance, her rant still not done. "Don't you get it? I blamed you because I was scared-"

"And that's okay!" He cut in.

"No, it isn't! And I've always felt bad about that but I never felt as guilty as I did when I was sitting inside that freaking freezing cell, huddling to keep warm, curled up in the corner like a coward, hiding from that giant monster they stuck me with. . . . I've never felt so bad in my life. . . I don't deserve you to be so nice to me!" She cried out, her voice growing. "I made your life hell, I contributed to you being isolated from _everybody_, and here you are, running me baths and rocking me in a rocking chair and making love to me! Why? I'm a horrible person." Her last admission was muffled by Toby's skin, as he had forcefully tugged her further into his embrace, stopping the rocking.

"You are the best person I know," He whispered, after minutes and minutes of silence, still hugging her so tight it made her ribs hurt. "You are the light of my life, the best thing I've ever had, the best thing I ever will have. You make me feel love when I feel like there's nothing lovable about me or this world. You make me smile when my entire family has made me feel like a complete failure. You make me feel this inexplicable joy that no one else has ever made me feel. You were one of the first people to believe in me, you wanted to help me clear my name, you were my friend then and you're my _best_ _friend_ now. You treat me like I'm this special prize, instead of the winner. You make me want to hug you and kiss you constantly. You make my heart grow, every single day, the way you look at me with this huge smile or this sparkle in your eyes or how you hug me like I'm your shelter from the thunder and lightning. You treat me like I deserve to be loved, a way my own family never treated me. You've taught more about love than I've ever known and given me more than I could ever return. But I'll never stop trying. I'm your _safe place to land_, your _once upon a time_. And I'll always be here for you. You're _always my girl_, remember?" He nudged her, wiping her remaining tears away with his lips.

She laughed softly at the memory, her body now relaxed, her eyes awed and teary but now for an entirely different reason. "I love you, Toby," She whispered softly.

"I love you, so much," He whispered, kissing her forehead warmly, his lips lingering there for a long time. "We'll get through this together," He promised, hugging her a little tighter.

"Okay," She breathed, a weight visibly lifted off her shoulders as she tucked herself further into him.

He stroked her hair gently, kissing her again and again, showering her with as much love as he could convey. She wasn't alone in this and he'd never allow her to feel like she was, as long as he was still breathing and his heart was still beating. He rocked her back and forth again, squeezing her as she pulled closer to him, almost like they were two halves of a whole. He whispered, "Okay," with a gentle delicacy that he knew she needed.

They were going to have to face more and more obstacles as time wore on but if they had each other, nothing else mattered.


End file.
